Where Are We Going?
My rescue pup received a name suited for the companion of an adventuring woman (see Little Pomp, Or Pompey from March 2022). On some journeys she sleeps peacefully, while on others she paces and drools, alternating from sitting to standing every thirty seconds. She’s not much for directions, unless we are near the farm store where they give out treats, then she knows exactly where we are. She willingly shares the way back with her best friend when we travel as a trio, and when we return home, the last mile is so recognizable that you don’t even need to ask, “Pompey, where are we?” and she cries with excitement.
The two funniest nuances of my mobile mutt remind me both to be safe and to be adventurous. If ever my vehicle drifts slightly and hits the rumble strips on either side of our lane, my girl instantly sets off her alignment signals and asks in panic, “What the hell just happened?” It’s quite usually nothing, just avoiding a random piece of tread or entering a construction zone where the lanes veer into a bit of the shoulder. Her second constant, however, alerts as soon as the turn signal is engaged. Even if we are only changing lanes to pass a slower vehicle, she arises from her nap or pauses in her panting to inquire, “Where are we going?”
Right Or Left
If you’ve ever been misdirected by the Google Lady (see Just This Little Bridge from June 2022), you may have learned that having a plan B that doesn’t rely on global positioning will aid you in your travels. For example, I once told a friend traveling from Salt Lake City to the Big Easy, take I-70 west and turn right onto I-55 when you reach St. Louis. It’s just that simple, unless you let Google Maps take you off course somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. It’s going to punch a huge hole in your timeline, but in fairness, two days on one road wears on a solo driver.
I’ve driven a few of these long stretches: Interstate 10 from Jacksonville to Houston, US Highway 2 from Glacier National Park to Williston, and yes, Interstate 55 north to St. Louis (even if I took the I-270 cutoff to get to Interstate 70). Pompey likely knows by the simple “tick, tick” of the turn signal that changing direction can be exciting, and curious, and part of the adventure. Anytime we turn towards something new, something different than the road we’re on, we embrace a new direction, but also the possibility of a new vantage point and a new experience than the one we have known. Even if we don’t know where we are going, she understands the discovery of what’s next. Again I am reminded of how aptly she is named.